


Don't You Worry (Stiles)

by Watermelon Wolves (RogueMarieL)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Everyone Is Alive, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Full Shift Werewolves, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scent Marking, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Werewolf Packs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueMarieL/pseuds/Watermelon%20Wolves
Summary: After Scott was bitten, Stiles told a very small lie in exchange for a very huge prize -- pack membership -- and he has spent the intervening years winning every Best Fake Boyfriend award on the books. Now, however, Scott wants to be in an actual relationship, and Stiles is losing his pack. Enter Derek.





	Don't You Worry (Stiles)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phnx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phnx/gifts).



> I started writing this in 2015. Several years later, it is finally done. Sorry for the wait, [Phnx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phnx/pseuds/Phnx)!

They were in the first class of summer term when it happened. Stiles was sitting next to Scott in the university’s smallest auditorium when the girl in the row behind them asked for a pen. Scott turned around, pen in hand, and froze before handing it to her. Stiles abruptly knew what was going to happen next.

Scott and Stiles were about to break up.

* * *

Scott flopped onto the bed as Stiles closed the door. “Dude, did you see her? Isn’t she beautiful? She has this smile…” Scott clutched his pillow to his chest, sighing happily. “I think I’m in love.”

Stiles laughed as he sat at his desk. “Yeah, buddy, I saw her.”

“I want to bring her home this weekend. You know, introduce her to Mom and the pack.” Scott sat up. “She said she would go on a date with me, did you hear? Allison…”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I think introducing her to the family before the first date is a little soon, Scotty.” He raised one hand to stall Scott’s immediate protest. “But more importantly, I think you might be forgetting something here.”

Scott blinked. “What? I mean, yeah, date first, family later, but I really think they’ll like her. But dude, of _course_ we’ll date first. The pack is definitely hard to spring on someone without, you know…” Scott shrugged.

Stiles shook his head. Apparently, he’d have to spell it out. “Bro. We’re going to have to ‘break up.’”

Scott nodded, his dazed smile not fading. As he processed the words, however, his expression quickly fell. Dropping the pillow in horror, he said, “But then you won’t be pack anymore!”

“Scott. You can’t date two people at once. Even though we aren’t dating, they _all think we are_.”

Groaning in realization, Scott deflated. “Well, we’ll see how the date goes. And hey, it’s been three years since I joined the Hale pack. And you’ve been there with me! Maybe they’ll let you be part of the pack? Humans can be pack.”

“Yeah, when they’re in a long-term relationship with a member of the pack or were born into it.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But!” Stiles smiled. He didn’t like seeing his best friend look this upset, particularly when not two minutes ago Scott had been vibrating out of his skin in happiness. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. So, where are you planning on taking Allison tomorrow?”

“Oh my god, so! I was thinking, maybe we could go to lunch, or a walk in the park, or -- oh! A picnic!” 

Scott continued to bounce ideas off of Stiles for the next hour. Stiles, initially, had to remind him that he didn’t know Allison either, so he couldn’t actually say if she liked this food or that food, but as Scott wasn’t really listening it didn’t actually matter. Eventually, Scott noticed the clock, and he ran from the room, babbling about how he was going to be late for work.

Stiles was fine for a while after Scott left. He grabbed a textbook and a highlighter and began to study, because he was going to ace his classes if it killed him. He was a quarter of the way through the chapter before it hit him.

He was going to lose his pack. It didn’t even matter that Allison and Scott hadn’t had their first date yet. If it wasn’t Allison, it would be someone else someday. When Scott and Stiles had begun their faux relationship, he’d known it wouldn’t last forever, that he wouldn’t be pack forever, but back then he hadn’t really known the difference between _pack-adjacent_ and _pack_.

And there was no reason to blame Scott for pursuing a romantic interest just because Stiles was too committed -- or perhaps too cowardly -- to do the same.

Intellectually, he knew the whys behind pack law, but knowing and feeling were two separate things. He had been part of the Hale pack for three years, and they were his friends and family. They were his _pack_. After Scott was bitten, Stiles had spent almost more time at the Hale house than at his own home. They had shared secrets and full moons, and now everything was going to change. Stiles was going to lose all of them. They would all still be there, but he would never be allowed to spend another full moon there. As a non-affiliated human, there would be rules and limits to how long he could stay, when he could show up, what he could do… He wouldn’t be _family_ anymore.

He wouldn’t be allowed to live with Scott anymore.

He couldn’t breathe. Distantly, he heard a very distinct ringtone.

Stiles wasn’t really aware of answering the phone, but suddenly someone was speaking. The words were unclear for a moment, and then there was a pause and a very sharp, “ _Stiles! Breathe!_ ”

Stiles was trying, and as the voice on the other line kept dictating when to breathe in and when to breathe out, he eventually managed a gasp of air. Then another, and another, and finally, after an unknown length of time, he could breathe normally.

“H-hi. Thanks. Sorry about that,” he said, grabbing some tissues to clean up his face.

“Stiles,” the man on the other side said, “what’s wrong?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It was nothing?” Stiles winced as he spoke. Not only was it incredibly obvious that he was lying -- hello, panic attack -- but he was talking to a werewolf. Who knew if he could hear his heartbeat over the phone. “Seriously, Derek--”

“No. You don’t get to do that. We’ve talked about this.”

“Derek--” Stiles tried again, only to be interrupted.

“I can fly down there tomorrow,” Derek threatened. Stiles could hear faint clicking in the background. “There is a flight at 6:05 for five hundred and fifty one dollars. I could be in Berkeley by noon. Am I buying the ticket, Stiles?”

Some people thought Derek was very nice. Others found him to be an asshole. As it happened, Stiles thought Derek was a mixture of both, and that he was the biggest asshole when he was trying to be nice. 

Stiles groaned. “No. No, Jesus.”

“Then tell me.” That was not a request. The growl in Derek’s voice sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine. 

“I think I have to leave the pack,” Stiles whispered. He didn’t mean to say that. He and Scott hadn’t even worked out their plan for their grand reveal, yet here he was, laying all his cards on the table. He scrubbed at his face as the tears started up again.

“ _What_.”

“Scott… he really likes this girl, okay, and you know the rules. I can’t be pack, not without… And you know the laws don’t cover ‘former significant other who still wants to be pack,’ because that usually isn’t how it goes. Derek, _I can’t do this_.”

Stiles’ breathing sped up as his panic returned, After Derek had calmed him down again, Stiles started to explain about Scott and Allison and their date the next day. Derek, as he was under the impression that Scott and Stiles were an item, was reasonably upset on Stiles’ behalf. Stiles had to talk Derek out of coming to Berkeley to kill Scott three and a half times. It would have been four, but Stiles was pretty sure Derek wasn’t nearly as serious that last time.

“Derek,” said Stiles hesitantly as Derek’s ire seemed to be finally winding down. “We’re not really ready to let the whole pack know, yet. Could you sort of… just keep this on the down-low, just for now?”

Derek was silent for a long moment. “Fine,” he said. “Just for now.”

“Thanks. Really, thank you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Stiles.”

Stiles hoped he did, too.

After they finally hung up, Stiles took a few more deep breaths. If nothing else, he would still be able to call Derek -- and the other Hales, of course -- and there was Skype and other things like that that they could use. Stiles tried to ignore the voice in his head that wondered if they would still even want to talk to him once he was no longer pack. Derek, at least, would still call. Stiles had never even met Derek in person (why Derek had decided to go to NYU, Stiles would never know, the east coast was _clearly_ inferior), so not much would even have to change there.

Stiles decided it was time for a nap. Studying could wait.

Across the country, Derek stared at his phone. He had things to think about.

* * *

Scott’s first date with Allison went well. So did the next one, and the one after that. They went to dinners and the movies and, once, to a bowling alley. Stiles really was happy for his friend, mostly, but there was a point where he was ready to grab his earbuds any time Scott went to open his mouth.

Really, Stiles _did not_ need to know those details.

Not even a little.

It was getting increasingly difficult to talk to Scott about anything that wasn’t Allison, which meant the conversation about talking to the pack took a very long time to happen. It wasn’t until right before the full moon that Stiles managed to sit him down to discuss it.

“Dude. You’re going to smell like Allison. Now, I’m not a werewolf, but I imagine that the Hales will be able to tell that you aren’t just friends.”

“Yeah, no. No, you’re right,” Scott said. “But how do I even talk to them about it?”

“Just say that we broke up, we’re still friends, and that I think that Allison is a great match for you.” He saw Scott go a little shifty-eyed, and he knew he had to stomp this idea out right away. “Just, whatever you do, Scott, _do not_ tell them that we’re in some sort of ménage à trois. Do you understand me?” Stiles asked.

Scott sighed, deflating. “But then I could date Allison _and_ you would be pack! It’s a win-win!”

“Have you asked Allison?”

“No…”

“Then no ménage à trois. Also, I’m not sure I want to fake-date your girlfriend. In case you were wondering. Just, no.”

Scott glared at the wall. “Fine.”

“Good. Glad we have that settled. Call of Duty?”

“Cant. I’m getting dinner with Allison since I’ll be gone this weekend. Hey, do you mind if we use the room tonight? You could probably go stay over at the library or something. Or with that guy down the hall? Please?”

Stiles had gotten used to the puppy eyes Scott sent his way, but he still caved. He wasn’t happy about it, but… “Yeah, sure. No worries. When you get back though, yeah?”

“Sure. Just, uh, tell me when, ‘cause Allison and I have a trip planned for next weekend, and there’s this couples’ event on Thursday, so…”

If Stiles’ smile grew a bit tight, Scott didn’t notice. Grabbing his laptop and backpack, Stiles said, “Yeah, no problem. Well, have fun tonight. I’ve got that paper to finish, anyway. See you Sunday. Be safe!” 

He waited until he was all the way down the hall before he dropped his mask. Scott probably wasn’t paying any attention to him -- was very clearly not paying any attention to him, really -- but it always paid to be careful.

As he made his way to the library, he wondered what he was going to do.

He’d been hopeful, before Allison, that whenever Scott did find someone to date (and it was always, always Scott who was going to break them up, never Stiles, because Stiles would never sacrifice his position in the pack for something as flimsy as _romance_ ) that he’d be able to remain friends with the pack, even when he was no longer a part of it. That was looking less and less likely every day. If even Scott -- _Scott_ , who’d been his best friend since they were little kids -- was forgetting about him so quickly, how long would it take the others? Would they even care that Stiles was no longer pack?

Would he even be able to see them again?

Walking through the library doors, he shook his head. At least there was always Wikipedia. He’d have to learn to take his companionship -- or the illusion of it -- where he could.

* * *

Stiles spent the night in the library researching all sorts of completely random things. He clicked from link to link, went from page to page, and was actually quite startled when people started to come in at a reasonable time of morning. He packed his things up and went to his dorm. Allison and Scott had cleared out by then, which made Stiles relieved -- and then he felt guilty when he realized he was glad to be alone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Allison. She was great. In fact, Stiles was reasonably sure he’d have liked to be her friend if she hadn’t been dating Scott. No, the problem was Scott. His night on the internet, which may or may not have included some quality time on some dating self-help blogs, had settled his emotions slightly and cleared his head. The problem wasn’t that Scott was dating someone, or even (entirely) that Scott’s new relationship meant Stiles would have to leave the pack. Scott and the way he was completely ignoring Stiles’ feelings -- that was the problem here. His best friend was turning out not to be the kind of friend Stiles had thought he had been. He kept trying to forgive Scott, but Stiles had to admit (if only to himself) that Scott’s behavior was wearing thin. People balanced friends and dating all the time. Allison was Scott’s first girlfriend, sure, but really?

So it wasn’t that Stiles was glad that Allison wasn’t there so much as he was glad that Scott was gone. He sighed as he got into bed. He was going to have to talk to Scott about this. Damnit.

* * *

The conversation never happened. Stiles was shaken awake later that day by an extremely upset Scott.

“Wha’?” Stiles groaned as the light hit his eyes.

“This isn’t funny! Everyone hates me!”

“Go ’way, Scott. Sleeping.”

“Stiles!”

Stiles hid under his pillow. He was sleeping. Sleep was good. Soon he would be asleep again, he just needed to snuggle back into his pillow and think happy thoughts.

Unfortunately, Scott pulled him right out of bed. “This is _important_!”

“Ow!” Stiles groaned. “The fuck was that for, asshole?”

“I brought you coffee. It’s on the desk. Now _wake up_! Everyone is mad at me, Stiles!”

Stiles scrubbed at his face in an effort to wake himself up. He somehow managed to escape his blankets and, after making his way to the coffee, he turned and glared at Scott.

“First: I was asleep. Sleep is sacred, Scott. _Sacred_.”

Scott started to say something, but Stiles growled him into silence. Scott’s eyes widened. (Stiles, clearly, either needed to spend more time talking to Derek or less. His growl was a little pathetic, and he should either stop or practice. But that was a thought for another day.)

As Stiles was glaring at his friend, a thought occurred to him. “Dude. Aren’t you not supposed to be back until tomorrow?”

Scott flopped onto his own bed and groaned. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Everyone hates me.”

Stiles sighed. He wasn’t getting out of this. He kissed his thoughts of going back to bed goodbye. 

“Alright. Hit me,” he said, sitting down at his desk. Returning to his bed seemed like an exercise in masochism, and he really didn’t have any interest in that at the moment.

“Well,” Scott began. “So, Allison and I are getting pretty serious, you know?”

Stiles sighed again. He did that a lot around Scott these days. “Buddy, you’ve known her for less than a month. But okay, sure. Continue.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “ _Anyway_ , when I got there, everyone knew. Like, I didn’t even have to tell them! I walked in and they were all, ‘Why do you smell like a girl?’ And they were so angry. I did what you said, you know, and told them we broke up and everything, but…”

“Scott. Come on. You knew they would be able to tell. They’re _werewolves_. They have noses. And things. Of course they knew you have a girlfriend.” Just then, Stiles’ phone buzzed. He glanced at Scott as he reached for it. He blinked when he looked at the screen. Seven missed calls and twenty six text messages, all from various Hales. Stiles waved the phone at his friend. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

“No!” Scott cried, sitting straight up. “Like, I knew they would be upset, but I thought they’d be happy for me, you know? Instead, they treated me like shit!”

Stiles sipped his coffee. “Dude, there’s no way Talia was anything other than polite to you. Don’t even.”

“Well, okay, fine. But they weren’t as nice as usual. And! I didn’t get a single brownie! And only half a cookie! And you know how I like those. Seriously, Cora had like ten cookies -- and she hates snickerdoodles!”

Stiles nodded thoughtfully. It did seem like they were a little upset. A spark of satisfaction flashed through him, but he quickly tapped it down, hoping Scott didn’t notice. He tried to cover it with a shrug. “They’ll get over it. Once they meet Allison, they’ll forget all about me. Seriously, dude, it’ll be fine. You just need to give them some time.”

Neither of them believed a word of it (though for somewhat different reasons), but Scott just turned over and groaned into his pillow. 

Stiles looked at Scott, looked at his bed, and then looked back at Scott. Scott appeared to be trying to smother himself with his pillow.

The choice was clear. Stiles went back to bed.

* * *

**Meanwhile**

“Everyone, sit down!” Talia ordered, her eyes flashing red. Everyone sat down -- some managing to locate chairs while others were compelled to sit on the floor immediately. “Now. As I’m sure you’re all aware, Stiles and Scott have broken up.”

“We know, Mom. Did you smell him? Geez. It’s like he was parading it around,” Cora complained.

Peter smirked from his corner. “Perhaps he was. The boy never smelled like that when he was dating Stiles. Do you suppose....”

Talia cut him off, barely listening. “Peter, don’t. We need to have a serious discussion, and I will not have you derail it into suppositions.”

Peter inclined his head. “If you insist.”

“At this point, you all must know what happens next. Scott will bring his new girlfriend by sometime soon, and you will all behave, do you understand?”

Nods were grudgingly given from around the room.

“And Stiles?” Cora asked.

Talia sighed. “Stiles is not a werewolf. You all know the laws. We can’t break them, not even for him. Of course, he will always be a friend to the pack, but the laws are clear, and Stiles can no longer be allowed at pack-only functions.”

“But what about Derek’s homecoming party in July? It’s next month. I’ve already invited him,” Laura whined. 

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“But it’s a _homecoming party_ ,” Cora whined. “It’s not even anywhere near the full moon! _Plus_ ,” she added conspiratorially, “he _might even_ bring homemade cookies.”

Talia paused. Laura, recognizing that her mother was leaning toward letting Stiles come, quickly jumped in with, “Scott’s mom is coming too, right? And Isaac, Erica, and Boyd? Scott’s mom is kind of pack, but those other three aren’t yet. I know, it’s practically a done deal, but they won’t be pack until the full moon. And the full moon isn’t until _two weeks_ after the party.”

Erik looked at his wife. “Think of the cookies, dear.”

Talia sighed. “Just this once, then. But! Classing this as a friendly gathering instead of a pack function doesn’t change anything. Stiles is no longer a member of the pack, so please treat him as you would any other friend.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Talia knew her family. They were going to try to get around that somehow.

Well, she liked Stiles. There were worse things.

“Excellent. I am going to the grocery store. Would anyone like to go with me?” she asked, standing. There were no takers. “I’ll see you when I return, then.”

She hoped they came up with something good.

* * *

Talia had been in the frozen foods section when she ran into John Stilinski. She’d never been one for small talk, but this situation called for some kind of acknowledgement. Or at least for some gossip.

The Sheriff stared at Talia. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

Talia nodded sadly. “I know, it came as a shock to us all. They always seemed so happy together. Honestly, we were all looking forward to their wedding.”

“Their wedding,” John said blankly.

“Yes. In fact, I believe Cora had started to plan it. It’s unfortunate that it's no longer going to happen. Though… I believe she was planning to hold the ceremony in the forest, and if I recall correctly she had decided that chairs were ‘overrated.’ It might have been a picnic wedding, though… Well, it’s probably just as well, now that I think about it. At least we were spared that.”

John nodded slowly. He disregarded Cora’s wedding planning skills to focus on the bigger picture. “I see. And you’re sure they... broke up?”

Talia sighed. “Yes. When he came over for the full moon… Well, I would hope they were broken up, for Stiles’ sake. I’m sure you understand what this means, however. Stiles can no longer be a member of the Hale pack. There will be a gathering next month to welcome Derek home, and while you and Stiles are both welcome to come, I’m afraid that after that, contact with Stiles with have to be minimal while we deal with the change in pack structure.”

“What? But he’s been in the pack since Scott…” he trailed off. He hadn’t thought too hard about why Stiles was considered a member of the pack in the first place, but he had known the laws governing werewolves. It was supposed to be for the safety of humans, but really it just helped to keep werewolves and humans apart. He sighed. “He’s known you all for years. He’s good friends with Scott and Cora. Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I see. Well, thank you for informing me of… the breakup.”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” Talia offered.

John nodded, then gestured to the ice-cream in his cart. “I should go before this melts. Have a good afternoon, Talia.”

John had a phone call to make.

* * *

Stiles did not appreciate his dad calling him about his break-up with Scott. There was a reason that neither John nor Melissa had been told.

“I can’t believe you two,” John was muttering. “I thought we raised you better than this. And how on Earth did you manage to lie to a family of _werewolves_?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, and was immediately glad his dad couldn’t see him. He had already explained everything.

Twice.

Third time’s the charm?

* * *

A week passed, then another. Scott was happily dating Allison, and Stiles was doing his best to ignore any and all feelings on the matter. He barely saw Scott anymore.

He was, however, getting some really strange texts from the pack.

It had started reasonably enough, with variations of _Are you okay?_ and _Do we need to beat up Scott for you? He’ll heal. We can ask Mom?_ There was one offer (from Laura) to have Peter hide Scott’s body. Stiles found all of these texts much funnier than Scott did.

It didn’t take long for the texts to jump from _semi-reasonable_ and _kind of comforting_ to land in _really odd_.

He kept getting texts about other members of the Hale pack. Laura texted him about Cora and Derek, spouting random facts about them. She wrote about Cora’s new-found love of milkshakes and how she was looking for people to go have them with her, and she wrote about Derek and his love for small animals (which Stiles found both adorable and entertaining, and resolved to tease Derek about as soon as they could Skype, because he really wanted to see Derek’s face).

Cora, however, kept texting about Laura and her husband, and how they seemed to be looking for adventure. Stiles was really not sure what any of that was about, but he did wish them luck with their travels (Cora ellipsed him and didn’t bring it up again). She also sent him short texts about Derek: he was moving home soon, and was Stiles excited to finally meet him? Did he know what Derek looked like? Here, have some pictures, Stiles.

One of them became his desktop background. He was really pleased.

Peter was the weirdest, though. He sent a few messages about how excited he was to see Stiles again, and did Stiles want to go visit this museum with him? When Stiles asked who else would be going, he didn’t really get a response.

When his regularly-scheduled Skype meeting with Derek finally happened, Stiles was really confused, and ready to tell Derek all about it. He was hoping for some really entertaining eyebrow action.

“Hey, dude!” Stiles said when the video started up. He waved a chip in greeting before shoving it into his mouth.

“Stiles, don’t call me ‘dude,’” Derek groaned. Stiles just grinned. Derek sighed.

“So. I hear you like cute baby animals. And that you wore cat footie pajamas until you were thirteen. Would you care to weigh in on this?” Stiles asked with a smile. He crunched happily on his snacks as Derek’s eyes widened.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Derek grumbled, but his eyes looked shifty. 

“Really?” Stiles asked. “I have pictures. My background is currently you with a kitten on your head. So, you know, if you want to change your answer…”

Derek’s head hit his desk. Repeatedly. Stiles laughed at his friend. “Dude, it’s adorable. Seriously. You should really tell me these things.”

Derek looked up as something occurred to him. “Stiles, where did you even get that?”

“Cora! I don’t know, dude, your family has been really weird lately. I obviously haven’t seen them or anything, but I keep getting these odd texts. I don’t know, man, your family.”

“What.”

“Yeah! Like, I swear, I -- you know what, I’ll read some to you. Would you like to hear Cora’s, Laura’s, or Peter’s?”

“ _What_.”

As Stiles told Derek about the text messages, Derek’s scowl became more and more pronounced. Eventually, Stiles took pity on his friend and moved the conversation on to other things.

“So, you’re coming back next week, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded. “I get in on Thursday. I--”

“Dude! Do you need me to come pick you up?”

Derek laughed. “No, it’s fine. Laura dropped the Camaro off a few days ago, so I’ll be able to drive my own car. I might stop by, though?”

“Dude! Yes. Do that.” Stiles paused. “Wait, your friends from school, are they…?”

“They’re coming down on Friday. I’ll go pick them up. I get in at noon, so I’ll see you around one?”

Stiles blinked. “Dude. No way you can make it from SMF to Berkeley in less than an hour, not with the time it takes to go through baggage claim and finding your car and everything.”

“Well, actually…” Derek didn’t blush, but Stiles was pretty sure he could see the tips of Derek’s ears turn a little red. “I’m flying into Oakland. It was a cheaper flight.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how accurate that was, but he decided not to comment. “Cool! So, yeah, one. I’m actually out of class at twelve fifty, and then I’m free for the rest of the day. We should do something!”

Derek coughed. He knew Stiles’ schedule, and it had had no small amount of influence on his choice to catch that particular flight.

By the time they hung up, both of them were excited for the week to pass quickly. They had decided that Stiles would show Derek all of his favorite places. In the meantime, Stiles was going to have to find favorite places that weren’t the library or the diner that sold curly fries.

* * *

Somewhere else, a long way from both Stiles and Derek, a handful of people had gathered together to plot. Stiles had been part of the Hale pack for three long years. How could anyone actually expect them to let him go?

* * *

Stiles bounced through his morning classes. He had been a mess of excitement since his conversation with Derek (not that Scott had noticed, so that was one more non-Allison-related conversation they didn’t have, and Stiles was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to talk to Scott about anything that wasn’t Allison), and he barely slept Wednesday night.

As his classes went on, he kept surreptitiously checking his phone for new messages. Not even the steady lack of texts from Derek could get him down, because he knew Derek would be there. Derek had never missed a single Skype session, or failed to text back, or anything. Derek said he was coming, so Derek would be there. That’s it, full stop.

When his classes finally finished and he still hadn’t received any texts, Stiles sent a text of his own asking where they could meet up. As he waited (because Derek sometimes took a while), he opted to pass the time in his dorm room.

Which is how he found the the wolf on his bed. “Please tell me you’re Derek, because if you aren’t, I might have a problem.”

The wolf glared and twitched his tail.

“Well. That really wasn’t much of an answer, so…” Stiles began to back out of the room. The wolf huffed and nodded to a jacket on the back of the chair. The jacket was definitely not Stiles’ -- or Scott’s -- but Stiles recognized it anyway. He saw it almost every week, after all.

He relaxed. “Dude. Really? You couldn’t have texted to let me know you got here?” The wolf did not respond, though he did curl back into a ball. Stiles sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, dude.”

Stiles had a paper to finish, anyway. He sat at his desk and reopened his tabs of research.

* * *

Some time later, Stiles heard movement from behind him. Looking around, he found himself looking at a very naked Derek. He promptly turned bright red and turned right back around.

Unfortunately, the chair was not prepared to turn with him, and he fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Stiles groaned in mortification as Derek laughed at him. A hand (with a sleeve-clad arm attached) reached down. Stiles took the hand and allowed Derek to lever him up, even as he complained about the former lack of clothing.

Derek didn’t seem to see anything wrong with it. Werewolves.

“Did you at least have a good nap?” Stiles asked. He decided to pretend he wasn’t still blushing. If he couldn’t see it, it wasn’t real, right?

Derek smiled. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting to be quite so tired when I got in. The past few days have been… more difficult than I was expecting.”

Stiles shrugged. “It’s cool. I’m glad you found my room okay. You did, right? I mean, you knew which one it was and everything? Oh god, you should have texted, I could have told you--”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted. “I sent you a package two weeks ago. I knew which room to go to.”

“Oh yeah!” Stiles perked up in realization.

They stared at each other for awhile.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Stiles said.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Because we haven’t known each other for years.”

“Yeah, but dude, like -- this is the first time we’ve actually _met_. In person. It’s a momentous occasion!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek grumbled, though he was smiling.

Stiles smiled back. “So! Are you ready for the Stilinski experience?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, and Stiles quickly rethought that sentence. “Oh, fuck you. Come on, I’ll show you around. If you want. What time are you planning on leaving?”

Derek shrugged. “As long as I make it to SMF by three tomorrow, it doesn’t matter.”

Stiles grinned.

* * *

Derek ended up leaving sometime after dinner. They had gone to the diner with the curly fries after all. Stiles complained that it wasn’t proper “Welcome back to California” food, but Derek had said that after hearing so much about the “most epic fries ever, seriously the best fries in the entire world,” he had to try them. It was a good night.

* * *

Two days later, Stiles regretted everything.

“I’m sorry, you _what_?” Stiles stared at Scott, not quite sure if the words he had heard had _actually_ come out of Scott’s mouth.

“It’s just, it’s time. Right? They seem really excited to meet her,” Scott said.

Stiles wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Just the other day Scott had been complaining about something someone had said about Allison. Stiles certainly hadn’t gotten the impression that any of them were excited, but maybe things had changed.

“And,” Scott added, “Allison is really excited to meet them.”

“You already invited her?” Stiles sighed. Of course.

There was a knock on the door. Scott dashed the three feet to it and answered with a cry of, “Allison!”

Stiles sighed again. It was going to be a long car ride.

* * *

The ride was exactly as long as Stiles had feared. Scott kept telling Allison about the pack and how much they all wanted to meet her, and Allison was nervously pleased about the meeting. Stiles had no idea what to say and so he mostly kept turning up the music. (Scott kept turning it back down to talk to Allison about meeting the pack, which just led Stiles back to the volume control. It was a vicious cycle)

Stiles wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or deeply concerned when they finally made it to the Hale house. He settled on being glad to see Cora when she came to greet them as they stepped out of the car.

“Hey Cora,” Stiles said, letting himself lean into the hug she attacked him with.

“Stiles,” she greeted, letting out a long breath over his neck as she patted down his back unsubtly. 

“Hey now,” he said, pushing her away, “I’m not--”

“Shut up Stiles,” she growled.

“...Okay.”

Scott and Allison came around the other side of the car. “Hi, Cora!” Scott said happily.

Cora pulled away from Stiles and turned to Scott. “Hello.”

“This is Allison. Allison, this is Cora.”

“Hi, Cora. It’s nice to meet you,” Allison said.

“Likewise,” Cora replied, not even looking at her. Stiles kicked her. Cora glared at him, then smiled at Allison. There was a little too much teeth to be strictly polite. “Seriously. Welcome to the Hale house. Come on in, the party’s in the back.”

She led the three of them through the house and into the backyard, herding them over to where Derek and Talia were standing.

“Derek, this is Stiles!” Cora shoved Stiles toward her brother. Luckily for Stiles, Derek caught him. Cora grinned at the two of them while they got themselves sorted. “I’m so glad the two of you are finally meeting! Stiles, you got those pictures I sent you, right? Oh! I have more. I’ll go get them!” Not waiting for a response, she darted off.

“Excuse me,” Derek said before running after his sister. Nothing good could come of her plans.

Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Talia were left staring off after the pair.

Suddenly realizing that he was in the presence of his alpha, Scott cleared his throat. “Alpha Hale, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Allison Argent. Allison, this is Alpha Hale of the Hale Pack.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Allison said with a smile. “Scott has told me so much about you and your family.”

Talia gave a somewhat tight smile in return. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Argent.”

Just then, Laura entered the yard with her husband, Neal. “Mom!”

Talia inclined her head. “If you’ll excuse me, my daughter is calling. Perhaps we will be able to talk later?”

A general murmur of confused agreement later found Stiles, Scott, and Allison staring after her. Scott frowned, but Stiles just sighed. He’d _known_ that Scott was fooling himself with all that talk of the Hales’ excitement to meet Allison. 

Stiles clapped Scott on the shoulder. “It’ll work out, buddy,” he said quietly.

Allison looked between the two of them. “Scott?” she asked, hoping for some sort of explanation.

Scott shook his head and smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He paused, his head tilting slightly as he listened to something too far away for either Stiles or Allison to hear. “Oh! Mom just got here. Want to meet her?”

Allison was no match for his puppy eyes. She bit her lip and nodded.

“We’ll see you later, okay Stiles?” Scott called over his shoulder.

Stiles waved after them. It was time for him to grab a snack.

Unfortunately for Stiles, he was interrupted on his journey.

“Stiles,” Peter purred as he wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“Hello, Peter,” Stiles said.

Instead of letting go, Peter led Stiles to a shady area of the yard with few people around. Stiles found himself backed against a tree while Peter leaned into his space.

“Dude, _boundaries_ ,” Stiles said as he pushed Peter away.

Peter stepped back with a chuckle. “My apologies, dear boy. I thought it would be nice speak to you. How _are_ you doing, these days?”

“As fine as I can be?” Stiles wasn’t really sure why Peter was asking. Peter didn’t usually talk to him -- and even though Stiles didn’t want to think about it, this was his last time at the Hale house, and it didn’t really make sense for Peter to take an interest now.

“Well, you certainly _look_ fine,” Peter said. He brought a hand up to trail across Stiles’ neck.

“Dude, _bad touch_.” Stiles knocked Peter’s hand away.

Peter smiled. “I simply wanted to scent-mark you as pack. Just this last time. Since you aren’t anymore. Well, it was nice to see you, Stiles. Do let me know if you want to do this again sometime.”

With that odd parting comment, Peter walked away. 

“ _So weird_ ,” Stiles muttered. The laughter that echoed back suggested that Peter had heard him, but Stiles couldn’t make himself care.

Either way, Stiles was now free of Peter, which was a relief. He wasn’t quite sure what they’d been talking about -- certainly, they hadn’t been talking about the same thing.

Peter just seemed to get weirder and weirder as time went on.

Whatever. At least now he could get snacks. Score.

As he walked toward the table, he noticed Derek and Laura talking under a tree about thirty yards away. Derek seemed slightly tense, from what Stiles could tell. Still, Stiles knew that talking to Laura could do that to a person. He figured he could catch up with Derek later. Derek was busy, and food was a priority.

After grabbing a plate, Stiles went to sit down. There was an empty seat next to three people he had never met in person, but had seen on a computer screen a time or two.

“Hey, guys,” he said as he sat down next to Isaac.

“Stiles,” Isaac greeted. Boyd, sitting across from Isaac, nodded.

“Ooh, _you’re_ here,” Erica smiled slowly at Stiles.

“How are you?” Stiles asked from around his bite of pie.

Isaac wrinkled his nose and pulled away a little. “Well, we _were_ doing just fine, but then this loser came up to us…”

Erica kicked him under the table. “Don’t listen to him, Stiles. He’s just being an asshole because some beta ignored his hello.”

“Well, it was rude,” Isaac grumbled.

“Uh-huh,” Erica rolled her eyes. “That guy over there. Who is he?”

Stiles followed Erica’s line of sight to where Scott was talking to Allison and his mom. “Oh, that’s Scott. He probably just didn’t hear you.”

Boyd raised an eyebrow. “He’s a werewolf.”

“Yeah… but he’s kind of on an Allison-only frequency right now. If you just kind of appear in front of him, he might notice after he walks into you, but…” Stiles shrugged.

“Is that the girl he’s with?” Isaac asked. Stiles nodded as he chewed vigorously. 

“Really, Isaac?” Erica rolled her eyes again. She turned back towards Stiles. “So, _Stiles_. Are _you_ dating anyone?”

(From two different places across the yard, Cora and Laura whipped around to face them. They were suddenly very interested in that conversation.)

Stiles shook his head. “Nah. I’m a free agent, baby!”

“Well, if you’re ever interested…” Erica trailed off, flicking her eyes over what she could see of Stiles’ body. 

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, yeah, whatever dude.”

Erica smirked and curled into Boyd. “You know you want me.” Boyd, used to Erica’s antics, shook his head and said nothing. 

“You keep telling yourself that.”

(The two Hale girls slumped. It was clear that Stiles wasn’t interested, which meant that getting him to date Erica and Boyd probably wasn’t going to be their way to keep him in the pack.)

The group of not-quite-friends talked for a little bit longer as they finished up their food. Stiles asked how they were getting along with the Hales, and the answer was, apparently, very well. Eventually, Isaac stood up. “We should probably go talk to other people, though.”

“I’m glad it’s working out so far. I’ll catch you guys later,” Stiles said. “I need something else to drink anyway.” The group disbanded, and Stiles headed to the kitchen. 

Stiles genuinely liked the three betas, and he was glad that they were finally joining the Hale pack officially, but it was still really hard to see them getting ready to be part of the pack just when he was leaving it. He didn’t regret coming to this party, but… it was difficult.

He was briefly stopped on his journey by an unhappy Scott who asked him for the car keys. Stiles sighed and handed them over after making Scott _swear_ not to damage his baby. Stiles would figure out how to get back later. At worst, the Sheriff would probably be willing to take him.

Eventually, though, he made it to the kitchen. After grabbing a new can of soda, Stiles opted to lean against the counter instead of going outside. He needed a moment to himself, and since no one else seemed to be inside, this seemed like as good a place as any to pause and contemplate life.

Not too long after, however, Derek wandered in.

When Stiles realized he wasn’t alone, he immediately perked up, pasting what he hoped was a sincere-looking smile on his face. Seeing that it was Derek, however, he allowed himself to deflate with a sigh. There wasn’t much point in trying to fool him -- they knew each other too well. “Hey, man. How is your party treating you?”

Derek shrugged as he grabbed his own refill. “It’s a party. I think Laura drank too much Blue Moon.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The two of them were silent for a few minutes. Stiles finished his drink and reached for another one.

Derek frowned. "Stiles."

Stiles sighed. “I’m sorry. I know this is your welcome home party, and dude, I’m so excited that you’re here, you know that, it’s just…”

“You’re upset.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be allowed to come back here, you know? And Scott and Allison left early, which actually wasn’t very surprising but it means I’m going to have to get a ride to my dad’s -- and then another ride back to school, but whatever, right?”

“I can give you a ride back. If you’re worried. It’s not a problem,” Derek offered. 

“Thanks,” Stiles smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was an improvement as far as Derek was concerned.

Derek cocked his head to the side. “That isn’t everything, though.” It wasn’t a question.

Stiles shook his head, deflating yet again. “I’m going to have to file the paperwork for a new dorm assignment soon,” he admitted with a shrug. “I don’t know what kind of person my new roommate will be, but --”

“ _What_.”

“What?” Stiles looked around. “Did something happen?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “No, idiot. Why do you need a new roommate?”

Stiles stared at him. “Look. I know we haven’t talked about it since Scott met Allison, but… I can’t keep living with him. I’m a packless human, Derek. Really, I should have moved in May, but… Well, I haven’t actually changed my pack status yet. I was hoping to wait until the end of term.”

“Do you have to?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. At the beginning of each term, everyone who lives with a ’wolf has to have a note from his or her alpha. It’s about safety.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if I didn’t live on campus, this wouldn’t be nearly so much of an issue. Most apartment complexes don’t even require an alpha’s permission upon moving in. People generally assume that if you’re moving in with a werewolf, you either are a ’wolf yourself or are part of a pack in some way.”

Derek tilted his head, seeming to consider something. Stiles ate some of his burger, but whatever Derek was contemplating, he wasn’t ready to share it.

Shrugging, Stiles continued. “See, even though the law states that humans can only live with ’wolves if they are in the same pack, most places don’t really care. If people are breaking the law and get caught, yeah, they’ll get arrested, which just means that it isn’t part of the contract for the apartment. It doesn’t have to be. So if Scott and I lived there, yeah, we could just keep doing that. But, well. We never could have afforded that. So, dorms. And now we both need new roommates.”

Derek scowled. He really didn’t like the thought of Stiles moving in with someone he hadn’t met. “Can’t you get a single?”

“Seriously?” Stiles asked. “Dude, those are _nine hundred_ dollars more. It’s not gonna happen.”

Derek glared. He suddenly had plans for the next week.

* * *

Scott and Allison had made their excuses after an hour and forty-three minutes. Scott hadn’t meant to time it, but he’d noticed the time when they’d gotten out of the car, and again when they’d gotten back in.

The car ride was mostly silent until they were almost back to the dormitory. Both Allison and Scott were a little upset about the way the party had gone. Eventually, Allison gathered herself together enough to ask a question.

“Scott? Why do they all hate me?”

“They don’t hate you, I promise!” he said earnestly. “It’s just…”

“Is it because I’m an Argent? I know my family used to hunt, back before people knew about werewolves and everything, but Dad never even trained me! I’m an art major!” Allison was working herself up into a righteous fury -- which was knocked cleanly over by the next words out of Scott’s mouth.

“It’s because of Stiles.”

“ _What_? What do you mean? He likes me, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but…” Scott sighed. “You know how most humans aren’t allowed in werewolf packs?”

“Yes?” The word was drawn out a little. Allison had wondered about Stiles, but had thought it would be impolite to ask. Now it seemed like she was finally going to get the backstory there.

“Well… See, I was bitten by a rogue alpha, right? The Hales were nice enough to take me in once they realized, but I wasn’t supposed to be let out into the public until I had a handle on my shift. Plus, I had to go to a special school… Anyway, in the beginning, only my mom was really allowed to visit -- and not often.”

“Okay…” Allison nodded.

“Right. So, Stiles didn’t like that very much. We’d grown up together.” Scott laughed. “We met when we were in pre-k. Asshole ruined my sand castle. But that’s not the point!” he hurried, seeing Allison’s expression. “Totally a story for another time. So, anyway, Stiles ended up following me to the Hale house about a week after they took me in, and, well…” He paused. Thinking back, he wasn’t actually quite sure how to tell the story. He remembered it clearly enough, but he had never had to tell it before. “So, Stiles, he sort of… Well, he was Stiles about it.”

“I’m Scott’s boy friend!” Stiles had said, a grin on his face.

Scott had stared at him. The rest of the Hales had stared at Scott.

“Scott!” Talia had shaken her head. “You really should have said something. It is _always_ helpful to have your significant other around, _particularly_ for new wolves.”

“I -- what?” Scott had said, somewhat dazed.

Peter had leered at the two boys. “Perhaps we should allow them to get _reacquainted_.”

Cora and Erik had groaned, but Laura and Talia had both laughed. “Be careful,” Talia had warned. “No funny business, do you two understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am!” they had chorused.

“Good. Run along, then. And Scott -- be careful. You are stronger than you used to be, and Stiles might get hurt.”

“I understand,” Scott had said as he dragged Stiles to his room.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Hale! I brought a newspaper!”

“ _Stiles_!”

“ _What_?”

Scott had shoved Stiles into the room and, after he had pushed his friend over to the bed (“Oh, hey, this is a nice bed!”), Scott had closed the door and glared at Stiles. “We are never going to get away with this,” he had hissed. Back then, he had been so happy the bedrooms were soundproofed, as it meant that he had been able to yell at Stiles in peace. (He had continued to be glad of it later, for both the same and completely different reasons.)

“Dude, that’s the beauty of it. _We are_. This is a thing that is going to happen, Scott. They didn’t question it earlier, you didn’t deny it, so we just have to make sure we don’t seem obviously against the idea. Come on, people assume we’re dating all the time, this will be easy.”

“You want to _lie_ to a bunch of werewolves!” Scott had thrown his hands up. “How did you even manage to get away with that _direct lie_?”

“I didn’t lie. I said that we’re _boy friends_ , not _boyfriends_.” At Scott’s blank expression, Stiles had explained, “You know, two words, not one. They sound the same, but one is for a _friend_ who is a _boy_ and one is a boy who you--”

“I get it, I get it. But what’s the point? How is this a good idea?”

“Scotty, my man, my brother from another mother. I have a plan.”

Scott had groaned, but ultimately had caved to Stiles’ plan. Back then, it had seemed like the best kind of idea.

Allison stared at Scott as he told the story. Scott flushed uncomfortably and quickly ended with, “And so Stiles stole my shirts a lot, made me wear his, and somehow convinced every single member of the pack that we were in a relationship that didn’t involve sex. Apparently, we were waiting for the right time. I’m not sure how he managed it, but…” he shrugged.

“I just wish you’d told me about this before I went with you to meet them. It would have been nice to know what they expected.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said. “I didn’t think they’d react like that. Once they get to know you a little more, they’ll love you. I promise. And hey, Mom loved you! That’s good, right?”

Allison sighed.

* * *

Stiles was really glad that Derek had already offered him a ride home, or this would be about a billion times more awkward.

“Seriously,” Cora said. “Derek would be happy to drive you home.”

Laura nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “He hates clean-up more than any of us. Really, you would be doing him a favor!”

“Laura,” Neal murmured.

“What? You know what Derek’s like.” She turned back to Stiles. “I’ll go get him for you.” She left, dragging her husband along with her.

Peter walked up to them and draped himself against a conveniently-placed tree. “If you’d prefer, _I_ could give you a _ride_.”

Stiles’ eyes widened as he choked on air. “Uh, no thanks, I’m sure Derek’s got that covered. I mean, he’ll give me a ri -- lift home. Uh, but thanks?” His voice may have gotten a little high-pitched at the end there, but he was hoping no one was going to comment on it.

Cora hit her uncle. “ _Peter_ ,” she growled, eyes flashing. When he smiled guilelessly at her, she huffed.

Before any more could be said, Laura and Neal returned with Derek in tow. “And I know how much you don’t want to be on cleaning duty. Plus, now’s your chance to get to know him!” she was saying.

“Nice to see you guys. I hope we can hang out again sometime soon,” Stiles said as he stood. He gave everyone a hug but Derek, though Peter sort of jumped on him and only let go when Derek growled. If any of them happened to be battling tears at what could be the last time Stiles was going to see the inside of the Hale property, well, no one was going to mention it.

Thoroughly scent-marked, Stiles followed Derek to the Camaro.

About a block from the house, Stiles turned to his friend.

“So, why is Cora offering your car for rides?”

Derek shook his head. “No idea. Earlier she started yelling at me about keeping my phone locked and then handed me a piece of paper with your phone number on it.”

“...Isn’t she the one that gave you my number in the first place? ...Like, two years ago?” Stiles asked.

“Yes.” That was apparently all Derek felt the need to say on the matter. As they pulled into the Sheriff’s driveway, he glanced at Stiles. “What time should I come get you tomorrow?”

“Well, it’ll take about two and a half hours to get back, so… Noon? We could get lunch here, drive over, hang out for a bit, and then grab some dinner before you come back to Beacon Hills?” Stiles suggested as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Derek nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” With that, Stiles let himself out of the car. He waved when he got to the door, but it was clear that Derek was waiting for him to go inside. “See you tomorrow, Sourwolf,” he said fondly, knowing Derek could hear him.

Unlocking the door, Stiles went inside. “Hey, dad!” he called as he shut the door behind him. He heard a muffled curse from the kitchen.

“Hi, Stiles,” his dad greeted him, guilty smile on his face.

“Can I spend the night? Scott and Allison went back up early. I have a ride back tomorrow, though, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

The Sheriff nodded. “Okay, kid. You want to head up to your room while I finish dinner?” he asked hopefully.

Stiles smiled sharply as he walked toward the kitchen. “Oh, I’d love to help you. What are you making? Something healthy, I’m sure.”

“Ah…”

“Oh, pasta. Well, I’ll get a salad together and make some sauce… Do you have any tomatoes? What about mushrooms? Some peppers...”

The Sheriff groaned and, resigned to his fate, allowed Stiles to put together a grocery list.

* * *

Stiles was woken up by the sound of the window sliding open. He sat up, grabbing the baseball bat that he kept next to the bed.

He was met by a very unimpressed Derek leaning against the wall. “Uh. Hi, there,’ Stiles said. He dropped the bat and rubbed a hand over his face. “What time is it?”

“Eleven forty-five,” Derek said.

“You’re early.”

“You’re sleeping.”

“...Damnit.” Stiles flopped out of bed. He paused. “Wait. What are you doing inside?”

Derek shrugged. “Technically, you’re pack until you move out of the dorm with Scott. I figured I’d take advantage of that while I could.” He moved to climb back out the window. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

Stiles glared at Derek’s retreating back. “We have a door, you know!” Grumbling to himself, he made his way to the bathroom.

* * *

Stiles opened the car door and dropped into the seat. “So, I was thinking,” he started as he put his seatbelt on, “we could get lunch over at the diner, make our way over to UC Berkeley, and, if you’re up for it, we could go check out the paleontology museum?”

Derek nodded as he started the car.

“Here’s the thing, though,” Stiles added. Derek glanced over during Stiles’ uncharacteristic hesitation. Stiles shrugged. “Well, if I’m still sort of pack, even though I’m also not pack, it doesn't matter, but if I’m more not-pack than pack…”

“Get to the point, Stiles,” Derek growled.

“The werewolf-human interaction time-limit,” Stiles got out in a rush of words.

Derek took a moment to decipher what Stiles had said, then another to think about it.

“I could walk places?” I mean, the rule is three _consecutive_ hours, so if we were apart for, say, ten minutes or so…” Stiles said, fidgeting.

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think it will matter. Even though you aren’t dating Scott, I doubt anyone will ask. It should be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked while Derek parked the car in front of the diner. “‘Cuz, well, I wouldn’t _mind_ or anything.”

“Stiles. Get out of the car.”

“Ugh, fine. But let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

“I’m going to eat all of the curly fries.” Derek got out of the car and walked to the entrance. 

“Hey!” Stiles ran to catch up with a grinning Derek. “Jerk.”

* * *

Derek did not, in fact, eat all of the curly fries. This may or may not have had anything to do with the way Stiles shoved half of one box in his mouth practically before the fries had fully settled on the table.

They were, Derek agreed, pretty good curly fries.

* * *

After lunch, the two of them returned to the car to begin the journey to Berkeley. By the time they made it (faster than they really should have, courtesy of Derek’s interesting interpretation of the speed limit), Stiles was practically vibrating in excitement.

The museum was usually only open to students -- it was more to help students than for people who were casually interested -- but that week it had a collection open to the public.

Stiles led Derek in, spouting facts about dinosaurs the whole way. As they walked through the museum, Stiles explained this dinosaur or that dinosaur, and Derek barely got a word in edgewise.

Derek’s smile never left his face.

* * *

When they got to Stiles’ dorm at the end of the night, the two of them were tired and happy.

“Thanks for the ride,” Stiles said as they pulled in.

“Hey, thanks for hanging out with me today. It was a lot of fun.”

Stiles ducked his head down. “Yeah, I thought so, too. We should do it again sometime.”

Derek smiled. Stiles really hoped that Derek wasn’t paying attention to his heartbeat, because he was pretty sure it was beating faster than usual. Derek had a really nice smile.

“The full moon is next weekend, but after that, definitely. When would be best for you?”

Stiles thought about it. “Maybe Tuesday? Tuesday would be a good day. We could grab dinner or see a movie or something? My first Wednesday class isn’t until eleven, so…”

“Tuesday it is.”

“Okay then.”

The two of them smiled at each other for a long moment.

“Well, thanks again. I’ll see you next week. Bye!” Stiles got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. He turned and waved as Derek pulled out and drove away.

* * *

When Stiles walked into his bedroom, he was not expecting to see Scott sitting at his desk with a glare on his face.

“Uh, hey buddy,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Dude, where _were_ you?” Scott asked.

“Where was I? I was in Beacon Hills, that’s where I was. You took the jeep, remember?”

“Yeah, but I called your dad. He said you left this morning, and dude, it’s like midnight.”

Stiles stared. “Scott. You didn’t even call me, why the hell did you call my dad?”

“Well, if something was wrong, then you weren’t going to pick up anyway and I -- oh, nevermind. Listen, I need to talk to you.” Scott’s expression changed to pleading. “You saw how the pack was treating Allison, right? How can I make them stop? She’s great, you know that, but…”

Stiles sighed. He dropped his bag and sat on his bed. This was going to take a while.

* * *

Three days later found Stiles curled up at his desk with a cup of cocoa and his computer. He was just finishing up an edit of his intro paragraph when a knock sounded at the door. He looked at it in confusion. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and Scott was, as usual, out with Allison, so it wasn’t likely that he was expecting anyone either. Giving up on his essay for the moment (and secretly glad that he had an excuse to take a break because he hated the part when he had to somehow get all his ideas out in less words. Why there were maximum word limits, he would never understand), he walked to the door and opened it.

“Derek?”

“I was in the area,” Derek said with a shrug.

Stiles looked at him oddly. “Dude, you live two hours away. What could you _possibly_ be doing down here?”

Derek looked decidedly shifty before he managed to clear his expression. “Nothing. Hungry?”

Stiles glared suspiciously, then shrugged. If Derek didn’t want to tell him, it probably wasn’t important anyway. “Sure. There’s a place I like a few blocks away.”

Derek relaxed. “Okay. Car’s this way,” he said as he turned away.

Stiles turned to grab his wallet and keys. He closed his laptop and was out the door in a moment. He still had to run to catch up with Derek, who was already halfway down the flight of stairs.

Honestly, Stiles was just glad he was walking down them for once instead of just jumping to the lower level.

* * *

Sunday night was the full moon, and Stiles spent most of his morning talking to Scott, who was a little bit apprehensive about seeing the Hales again after the party.

“They just treated her so _badly_ , Stiles. They were… not nice.”

Stiles shook his head. “You knew it was going to be a bit of an adjustment, Scotty. All this time they thought you were dating me. If I hadn’t… well, they’d probably be taking it a lot better, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologize!” Scott yelled, throwing his arms in the air. He stopped pacing to drop onto his bed. “I just hate this, Stiles. I really like her, and I want them to like her, too.”

“They will,” Stiles promised. He sat next to Scott. “They didn’t like me all that much either, remember? Laura kept growling at me, and Cora tried to lock me in the pantry.”

Scott, despite himself, laughed. “She didn’t _try_ , man. She totally succeeded.”

“Dude, no way! I could have gotten out. There were just so many delicious snacks.” 

Scott laughed. “Sure, Stiles. Whatever you say.”

Stiles really hoped that the full moon run went better this month.

* * *

It didn’t.

* * *

Scott wasn’t supposed to come back until Monday afternoon, so when the door slammed open at three in the morning, well, who could blame Stiles for reaching for his bat?

The door had splintered from the force used to open it. Stiles blinked, holding his bat in front of him. “...Scott?” he asked.

It was Scott, but he was still partially shifted. His eyes were glowing gold, and he looked deeply unhappy.

“Dude, did you _run_ here?” Stiles asked him, putting the bat back down and falling onto his bed. “And can you do something about the door? It’s cold.”

Scott growled, but did his best to shove the door closed. It fit, after a fashion.

Stiles patted the bed next to him. “Wanna sit?”

When Scott started to take off his clothes, Stiles flailed. “Dude, warn a guy!”

Scott glared at Stiles, then shifted into his full wolf form. He jumped onto Stiles’ bed and whined.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well, huh buddy?” Stiles whispered. When Scott whimpered, Stiles began to pet his friend. “Alright, dude. Let’s go to sleep. We can talk about it in the morning.”

When Stiles woke up, Scott was gone.

* * *

“So what happened?” Stiles asked, looking up from his textbook.

Scott, who had brought a new door to replace the mess on hinges, froze. “I thought you had class right now?”

Stiles shrugged. “My professor doesn’t take attendance. I’ll just get the notes later. So?”

“Ugh. You suck. Do we have to talk about this?”

“Dude, really?” Stiles nodded to the mangled remains of the door in Scott’s hands.

“...Okay, fair.” Scott began the work of taking the tiny part of the door that was still attached off of the hinges.

A minute passed.

“Scott!”

“Okay! Geez.” He sighed. “Well, I guess it’s like this. I got there, and it was kind of like usual? But with a little more glaring. Talia said something about wishing she could have spoken to Allison a bit more, but it didn’t really sound sincere. And Laura and Cora… ugh.”

“Ugh?”

“Well, you know them. They kept making these _comments_. Like, about Allison, or art majors, or how you never know when an art major is going to kill you with a wolfsbane-laced paintbrush. But like, she’s not even that kind of artist, you know? She sculpts things. Like, with her hands. She has such nice hands, have you noticed? And she can do really cool things with them, like the time--”

“Scotty! Focus.”

“What? Oh, right, sorry.” Scott finished putting on the new door. “It’s just, it sucked, you know? Like she isn’t even a person, just this thing for them to hate, and I don’t even know why. And Derek and his friends, who are now part of the pack, by the way, because _why not_ , they barely even talked to me!”

“Wait, what?” Stiles was a little confused. Derek didn’t usually ignore people like that. He was usually very straightforward in his dislike -- not that he had a reason to dislike Scott, but, if he did, that’s not the way Stiles would have thought Derek would show it.

“Well,” Scott relented, “I guess they were busy getting things ready. There was this whole ritual to bring the three of them into the pack. I guess they were omegas before, but kind of gathered around Derek in New York or wherever.”

“Oh yeah. Did that go well?” Stiles asked. He knew a little bit about why they wanted to join the pack, and he did hope that it had all gone smoothly. Sometimes things could get messy if the incoming betas couldn’t accept their new alpha. And since the three of them hadn’t known Alpha Hale very long, it was a possibility that they would react badly to the shift.

Scott, who seemed to be unable to process any questions that weren’t related to Allison these days, ignored him. “But I think Peter was the worst,” he concluded.

Stiles figured he could ask Derek about the ritual later. They had plans, after all. “Well, Peter is… Peter. What did he do?”

“He just _kept laughing_. The entire time. Even when he was a wolf, he just looked really amused, and I just couldn’t take it anymore!” Scott scowled at the wall.

Stiles stared at him. “So… laughing was worse than commentating on how your girlfriend might someday kill you with a tool she doesn’t even use?”

“I know, right? But he wouldn’t stop. Or tell anyone why he was laughing. It was so annoying!” Scott whined.

Suddenly, _Barbie Girl_ started playing from seemingly nowhere.

“...Seriously?” Stiles asked as Scott reached for his phone. That was a new one.

“Shut up, Allison chose it.” Scott’s voice turned doting as he said, “Hi, Allison!”

Stiles shook his head and gathered his things. He knew this call was going to last for at least an hour, and he should probably finish his reading.

* * *

Stiles had been looking forward to Tuesday since Derek had dropped him off after the party. Seeing Derek after hadn’t changed the fact that he was excited to see his friend, and Stiles was beginning to suspect that he was never going to get tired of being able to see Derek in person. It was a whole different experience than only getting to see Derek on a computer screen.

For example, it was much more difficult to go to a diner to share separate plates of curly fries with a computer.

It also, it seemed, led to slightly different conversational topics.

“What do you _mean_ you got an apartment in Berkeley?” Stiles screeched. 

Derek winced at the volume, but otherwise remained unmoved. “It’s a two-room apartment. I could use the help with rent, if you’re up for it.”

Stiles glared. “That is a blatant lie.”

Derek shrugged. “Maybe.”

Sighing, Stiles asked, “How much is it a month?”

Derek ate a curly fry. He had forgotten to prepare this part. How much was too much? “It would be about four hundred each,” he lied.

Stiles scowled. He wasn’t quite as practiced as Derek was, but it was perfectly menacing, in his humble opinion.

Derek sighed. “Six hundred and twenty.”

Tilting his head back, Stiles thought about it. It was still suspiciously low, but Derek was probably not going to give him the actual number (Derek had no plans to tell him that rent was actually 2,470 dollars a month, but it’s not like he needed the money). Stiles ran his hands through his hair. “You realize this doesn’t actually solve the problem, right?”

“You need to move out. I have a place you can move to. What, exactly, is the problem?” Derek asked.

“Dude. Come on. You know I need to move because I am an _unaffiliated human_ ,” Stiles hissed. “Moving in with you still leaves me with the same problems. I _can’t legally do it_.”

“Look,” Derek said. “I’ve already signed the lease. There were no restrictions on having anyone move in or letting people stay overnight. No one is ever going to ask about it. Unless your dad decides to arrest me for it, _no one_ will care.”

Stiles munched on his curly fries mutinously. 

“Just think about it. Even if people find out, I’ll make sure you won’t get in any trouble for it.”

Stiles spit out a fry in outrage. “You think I don’t care if you get arrested? Damnit, Derek, I--”

Derek growled and force-fed Stiles another fry. “Just. Think about it. You don’t have to. But I would like it if you did.”

Stiles glared at him from behind the fry still sticking out of his mouth.

A week later, when the only person available to be his roommate turned out to be a Batman-hating, cigarette-smoking incoming freshman who was also allergic to dogs (and therefore to werewolves in full shift), Stiles went and talked to Derek about it again. If Derek was prepared to face the consequences, Stiles was, too.

* * *

In all fairness, Stiles wasn’t sure _why_ he thought that telling his dad, _an officer of the law_ , that he was planning on breaking a law by moving in with a werewolf that was part of a pack that Stiles was no longer in was a good idea. Really, it was going better than it could have.

“Stiles, you _just_ met him.”

“Okay, yeah, in person! But we’ve been talking for years, Dad. He’s a good friend.” At this point, Stiles really wished that he had an old-school phone with a wire attached, because he could really use something to fidget with. He settled for an eraser.

“ _Stiles_. People can seem one way over the Internet, and then when you get to know them in person, they can be completely different. You _know_ this!” John sounded frustrated, but Stiles wasn't sure how to calm him down.

“Dad, come on. What reason would he have had to lie? We’re -- we _were_ part of the same pack. And I heard stories about him from his family. We aren’t _strangers_!”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” John sighed. “The fact that you’re about to move in with a werewolf you barely know, or that you haven’t even talked to Scott, _your best friend_ , about how you’re going to move out.”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know _how_. It’s not something I want to just blurt out or text it, you know? But every time I try to talk about it, he just starts talking about Allison.”

“Could you tell him you want to have… ‘bro time’?” the Sheriff asked.

“I tried!” Stiles threw the hand not holding the phone into the air. “The last time, he canceled an hour _after_ we were supposed to go get pizza. A _full hour_ , Dad!”

John Stilinski sighed.

“No, don’t even, Dad. It’s like suddenly I’m not important to him anymore.”

“I’m sorry, son. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.”

“Maybe.” Stiles glared petulantly at the stacked boxes that were starting to take over the room. “You know, I would have thought he would have _at least_ realized the room is now covered in boxes, but he hasn’t even noticed! I started packing almost a week ago! And. And! He used one as a table yesterday -- and I only know that because it is now covered in sauce.”

“Geez, kid.”

“Yeah.” Stiles frowned. “I just… ugh.”

“Maybe you could try talking to Allison?”

Stiles shook his head even though he knew his dad couldn’t see it. “I’ve only seen her in person once since the Welcome Home Party for Derek, and she didn’t really talk to me. She might still be mad about it, but I’m not quite sure how it’s _my_ fault, so…”

“Kid, I’m sure she’d help if you asked.”

“Maybe, but I’d have to find her first, and I don’t have her number.” He shrugged.

“Stiles…”

“I know,” Stiles said quietly.

“Just… try, okay kid?”

“I am. I will. I just need to figure out _how_.”

* * *

“So,” Stiles said, dropping into his chair as the call connected. “What’s up?”

“I’m moved in now. There are only a few things left. I thought that maybe you might want to go with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles grinned. “What are you still looking for?”

“Kitchen stuff, mostly. Pots, pans,” Derek said.

“Seriously?”

Derek laughed, and Stiles could hear the smile as he said, “Yes, Stiles. You cook more than I do, anyway -- you’ll have a better idea of what to buy.”

“Yes! So, when do you want to go?”

“Well, I need them as soon as possible, so… now?”

Stiles looked at the textbooks on his desk, thought about his upcoming finals, and said, “Sure. Should I meet you somewhere, or…”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Stiles had an alarming amount of fun picking out kitchenware. He had spent the time waiting for Derek looking up reviews for all kinds of things, and he kept a running commentary for Derek as they walked through the aisles. They bought pots, pans, knives, and various appliances, before they headed over to the mattress section.

“I can just sleep on the floor. Or an inflatable mattress. Or a futon or something.”

“Stiles, you need a bed.”

“But I can sleep on the floor!”

“Just _try_ them.”

“Ugh.”

Stiles had found one that he really liked, but was way out of his price range. He ended up getting a relatively cheap bed that was still kind of comfortable and a small dresser. They had them delivered with the kitchen supplies that Derek had ended up spending a horrifying amount of money on without blinking. The cookware cost more than the bed, which was both impressive and concerning.

“We should have taken the jeep. We could have fit the kitchen stuff in, at least,” Stiles said as they walked to the parking lot.

Derek shrugged. “It’ll get there.”

“Yeah, in three days. Dude, how do you even _survive_? Seriously.”

“What? That’s what restaurants are for.”

“...Dude. I am judging you _so hard_ right now.”

“You do that,” Derek said with a smirk. He unlocked the Camaro. “Want to get something to eat, or do you need to head back?”

There was still a week and a half before his first final. “I’m free. We need to talk about moving, anyway.”

* * *

Stiles procrastinated very productively. When he was worrying about finals, he packed. When he was worried about moving, he studied. All things considered, it worked out rather well.

Finally, all of his things were packed, except for the things he would need during finals. Luckily for him, only two of his classes had finals. His other two classes were taught by professors with optional finals policies -- the final was basically extra credit. Since he had an A in both those classes, he figured he was fine.

Of course, his two finals were scheduled back to back on the first day of finals week, so it balanced out.

He hadn’t seen much of Scott since the door was put back up. As far as Stiles could tell, Scott was only in their room to sleep and change clothes, if that. Some days the sheets looked the same in the morning as they had the night before.

And Scott was never in the room when Stiles was awake. It was a problem. Stiles left notes and texted, but the response, if he got one at all, was always a variation of _Sorry, Stiles, I’m with Allison. I’ll see you later._

It sucked.

Scott had been Stiles’ best friend since they were four. They were there for each other through some very difficult times. They hadn’t gone without seeing each other for longer than a week (a poorly thought-out visit to Scott’s dad that ended earlier than planned) in that entire time. Worse, they had never not talked like this.

It felt like his friendship was over. He kept hoping that Scott would show up for video games or a movie, but it just wasn’t happening.

Stiles had really wanted to talk to Scott about moving out _before_ he left, but… with Scott never around, Stiles was going to have to leave a note. Which made him feel like a dick, but it was hardly _his_ fault that Scott wasn’t around (he ignored that he could have gone looking for Scott -- he didn’t want to talk in on anything like he had the first time Scott had vanished mysteriously).

As Stiles went to bed, he really hoped that Scott would show up in the morning.

* * *

Scott did not, in fact, show up in the morning. Instead, Stiles spent the morning glaring at his class notes. When his phone rang, he leapt for it.

It was Derek.

“Hi!” Stiles said. “I mean, uh, hi. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to wish you luck on your finals. The first one’s in an hour, right?”

Stiles checked the time. “Huh. Yeah. How did that happen?”

“Stiles…”

“What? I set an alarm! I wouldn’t have missed them!”

Silence. 

“I’m feeling very judged right now. You should stop it.”

“Of course, Stiles.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously.”

“...And now you’re mocking me.” Stiles leaned back in his chair. “You suck.”

Derek laughed. “Your last one gets out at seven, right?”

“Yeah, if I don’t finish earlier. Why?”

“Want to get dinner? It could be celebratory or consolatory. I’ll let you pick.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You suck.”

“You said that already. Go take your tests, I’ll see you at seven.”

“Uh-huh. Have a good day, Derek.”

“You too.”

Stiles hung up and sighed. It wasn’t like he was going to see Scott anyway. Time to write that note.

* * *

Stiles walked out of his second final that evening with mixed emotions. The questions had seemed so easy. Too easy. Something had probably gone terribly, terribly wrong.

But they were all over now, thank goodness. Now he had almost two weeks of freedom in which he could worry about the classes for next term.

Well, first he had to worry about his GPA for this term. His teachers had said grades would be up by the end of the week, but he’d been lied to before.

For now, he had plans with Derek.

He went back to his dorm to see if Scott had been there. As far as he could tell, no one had been in the room since he'd stopped in between exams. The note he'd written was still in the middle of Scott's empty desk.

He sighed. Well, he had the rest of the week to move out. With a glance at the stacks of boxes, he decided he should probably start now. He had twenty minutes before Derek showed up.

He started shoving clothes into boxes. He taped two of them and carried them down to the jeep, only to realize Derek was early.

Derek glared at Stiles when Stiles made noises about moving his things over that evening. “You just finished finals. We’ll get dinner and move things in the morning. If you really want, I’ll take these boxes over -- but you are going to sleep.” Derek reached over and plucked the boxes out of Stiles’ arms.

“How do you expect me to sleep! What if it all went wrong? I could have failed, Derek! _Failed_! And you want me to _sleep_?”

Derek stared for a moment and then walked toward the Camaro, clearly deciding that that didn’t deserve a response. Balancing the boxes, he unlocked the trunk before dropping them inside and shutting the door.

“Hey! Are you ignoring my angst? Not cool, Derek!”

Derek turned around. “Are you coming? You can angst at dinner.”

“Who can angst with curly fries?” Stiles threw his hands in the air. “Ugh. Fine. Why are you like this.”

Dere started the car.

“Anyway, I brought down my clothes, so if you want to take that over tonight, that would be cool.”

“...Did you pack all of your clothes?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Were you planning on getting dressed tomorrow?”

“...So, how was your day today?”

* * *

The next morning, Derek opened the door before Stiles was within knocking range.

“In hindsight, I probably should have come seen the place first,” Stiles said. “Also, hi. Where should I put this?”

Derek shook his head and took the box. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

“Hey! I was carrying that,” Stiles grumbled as he shut the door behind him.

Derek ignored him and dropped the box on the kitchen table before heading to one of the doors that probably led to a bedroom. “I wasn’t sure how you wanted things set up, but I put your bed and dresser together. I didn’t know if you had sheets, so I put an extra set of mine on in case you didn’t, or if you forgot where you packed them or they fell into a puddle or something.” 

“...I’d be offended, but since I don’t know which box I put them in, I appreciate the thought.” Stiles flopped down on the mattress and then sat straight up. “Derek.”

Derek, who was exiting the room, froze. “...Yes?”

“This is not the mattress I bought.”

“Oh. Well, I noticed that when they came, but it turns out that there was some sort of upgrade or promotion or something. I’ll bring in the rest of the boxes. You should sleep. You’ve had a long day. Morning.” Derek hastily hit the light switch and closed the door behind him.

Stiles was not a werewolf, but he didn’t think that you needed to be to tell when Derek was lying. He’d pay him back. And he’d help bring things in, just as soon as he got out of bed. He stretched. He’d get out in just a second.

* * *

Derek brought up the last set of boxes from the car. He listened for a moment, but Stiles was definitely sleeping.

The dorm wasn’t that far. He could probably go get the rest of it before Stiles woke up.

Just in case, he left a note.

When he got back, Stiles was still asleep.

* * *

Stiles woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. He rolled out of his brand-new bed (it was more comfortable than the one he’d picked out, it was true -- and he was definitely paying Derek back. Step one: find out how much it cost) and headed towards the kitchen. When he saw the piles of boxes in the living room he wanted to bang his head against the wall.

He checked the top box just to make sure, but there could be no denying it. Someone, almost certainly Derek, had brought his stuff over from the dorm.

“Derek?” he asked as he sat down at the kitchen table. “Did you bring over my stuff by yourself?”

“Yes.” Derek flipped the bacon.

Stiles sighed. “Dude. You know I could have helped, right? I mean…”

Derek turned around, a single eyebrow raised. Stiles deflated.

“Okay, yeah, I was probably going to get you to carry it. But I could have made lunch, at least!”

Toast popped up, and Derek moved to start making sandwiches.

Stiles shrugged. He stood and circled around the counter to where Derek was. He gave him a somewhat awkward hug. “Thanks. What do you want to drink?”

* * *

They had gone grocery shopping after Stiles had finally finished unpacking, and Stiles was cooking dinner.

“Hey, can I use your computer?” Derek called. “I left mine at the house. I’m going to go pick it up this weekend, but…”

“Oh my god, how are you still alive?” Stiles was horrified. “The password is 2424.”

“...Your lacrosse number from high school?” Derek asked as he typed.

“Shut up!” Suddenly, Stiles stopped stirring. “Wait!”

He ran into the room, but it was too late. Derek had already logged in.

“...So, you weren’t supposed to see that,” Stiles said sheepishly.

Derek did not turn around, but Stiles could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Where did you even _find_ this?” Derek absolutely did not whine.

Stiles, ignoring his own blush, answered promptly. “Cora! Remember, I told you she gave me some photos of you.”

“You said there was a _kitten_! This is not a kitten, Stiles!” Derek gestured to the picture that had been taken during his water polo phase (actually, he’d lost a bet to Laura and ended up playing the sport for a month, but he didn’t like to talk about that either). That had been during his freshman year of college, and he had spent the next year and a half dodging the coaches as they tried to convince him to return to the team.

“I should hope not, considering,” Stiles said.

Derek whirled around. “Stiles!”

“ _What_?”

Unfortunately for Derek’s attempts to delete the evidence of his shame, Stiles had hidden the pictures in a sub-folder somewhere, and each photo in the rotation of background images seemed worse than the last. The next time Derek saw the background there was a picture involving a set of festive reindeer footie pajamas taken two years ago (Laura had visited for Christmas. Derek loved her, but he had also been kind of relieved when she left). Derek froze in horror before running from the room to get his phone. Cora was going to have to die.

* * *

A few days later, Stiles’ phone pinged. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to smile or groan when he realized it was a notice that the syllabi for all classes had been uploaded. Fall term was starting too soon for his liking. Why had he decided to take summer classes? He checked to see what books he needed. There were a list of required and non-required books, all with links to the online campus bookstore. Some of the recommended texts he already owned, but the textbooks were all going to have to be purchased.

He checked Amazon and a few discount textbook sites, and he found some that were less expensive than the ones in the student store. Unfortunately, two of his classes required a just-published-by-the-professor textbook, and the student store did not sell them online.

With a sigh, Stiles wandered towards the bathroom to shower. Derek was sitting in the kitchen, doing something or other on his laptop. (It had turned out to in the bottom drawer of his dresser, under some jeans. Neither was sure how it got there. Stiles wasn’t going to ask about it, not with the way Derek was glaring).

“I need to head over to campus to buy some books. Wanna come?”

Derek paused what he was listening to and looked up. “Can’t. I have to get through this now, because if I don’t, I’m going to throw my computer out the window.”

Stiles nodded. Clearly, Derek was at work. “Well, good luck with that. I’m going to take a shower and go. Want me to pick up anything for dinner tonight?”

“No,” Derek shook his head. “Nothing in particular. Were you planning something?”

“You’ll see.” Stiles grinned and walked away, leaving Derek to glare at his computer screen once more.

* * *

Stiles had just left the student store when he was grabbed by the arm and yanked into the corner.

“What the hell, man?” he yelped. Getting a better look at his attacker, he jerked back. “ _Scott_? What the fuck!”

“I have been looking for you _everywhere_ ,” Scott snarled. “Where have you been? I came home one day and _all your stuff was gone_!”

Stiles shoved Scott back. “Well, gee, Scott, I wonder. It’s not like I didn’t try to talk to you about it.”

“About what? The fact that you didn’t want to live with me anymore?”

“Don’t be an idiot. What the hell did you _think_ was going to happen after term ended? I couldn’t have stayed.”

Scott’s eyes flashed. “You just didn’t _want_ to. You’re just like everyone else in the pack. You left because of Allison!”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles shook his head. “How can I be like ‘everyone else in the pack,’ Scott? I’m--”

Scott cut him off. “Whatever. I’ve been looking for you. And you’re never around! Where the hell have you been!” Scott yelled.

Stiles was done. Scott wasn’t listening, and clearly he wasn’t about to start. “ _Excuse_ me? _I’m_ never around? I’m not the one who decided I didn’t need my friends when I got a girlfriend!”

Scott paused. “I -- what? Dude, what the hell, that isn’t what happened!”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked. “Because that’s not how I remember it. You didn’t want to talk about _anything_ else. Which kind of sucked considering that _a whole bunch of things_ happened.”

“You moved out without any warning, don’t try to deny that!” 

“I tried to talk about it! You _knew_ we couldn’t share a room anymore, but you _never_ wanted to talk about it. You didn’t have time for me anymore! And I got it, yeah, but you can’t blame me for not talking to you when you weren’t there to talk to. _Especially_ when they were things you had to have known were coming. We aren’t _pack_ anymore.” Stiles glared at his friend.

Scott jerked back, suddenly pale. Stiles seemed to have gotten through to him a little bit, because he looked like he had been physically hit. “Stiles,” he said brokenly. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. We held on for as long as we could, buddy. And we’ll still be best friends, but you knew this was going to happen.” Stiles forced his anger back. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“I’ll… I’ll break up with Allison! We can--”

“Scotty.”

“But--”

“Scott. We’ll hang out all the time. But we -- and by this I really mean _you_ , Scott -- are gonna have to work on our communication skills,” Stiles laughed somewhat bitterly.

Scott hung his head. “I’ll do better,” he said.

“I know.”

The two of them stood there for awhile, watching students wander along.

“Where are you living now?” Scott eventually asked.

Stiles grinned. “I’m sharing an apartment with a friend. I cannot _tell_ you what an improvement it is on the dorm. I don’t have to wait in a five-person line for a shower anymore! And I can leave my laundry detergent _by the washing machine_.”

Scott laughed. Stiles had a well-known tendency to knock things over. This had resulted in at least one detergent-covered textbook. 

Stiles was glad that Scott left it at that. Their friendship would obviously never be quite what it was pre-Allison, but maybe they could still be good friends after all. He vaguely wondered why Scott, the actual werewolf, couldn’t smell Derek on him, but he decided not to look gift horses in the mouth.

Up next, groceries. Maybe by the time he made it home, Derek wouldn’t be able to smell Scott, either.

* * *

Derek looked up from his book when Stiles crashed through the door. “You smell like Scott,” he said with a frown.

Well. So much for that. And he’d even bought a three pound bag of onions to help cover the scent.

“Hello to you, too, buddy,” Stiles said. He put the grocery bags on the table and dropped his bags to the floor. Derek stood to help him put things away.

“What happened.”

Stiles shrugged. “He stopped me in the courtyard to tell me I was a terrible friend.”

Derek growled. His growl abruptly ceased when Stiles shoved a bag of fruit into his arms.

“Nah, it ended up okay, I think. We might hang out soon? Maybe. If, you know, plans with Allison fall through.”

“Stiles…”

“Nah, it’s cool. Like, maybe we’ll be friends again someday.”

Derek didn’t say anything.

“So!” Stiles visibly shook his feelings away. “I was thinking… burgers?”

* * *

School started up again, and Derek and Stiles quickly became caught up in their new schedules.

Stiles was absently paging through different websites, searching for sources for his first paper of the term, when it abruptly occurred to him to ask, “Derek? Isn’t the full moon coming up?”

He heard a muffled curse come from the other room, and he winced in sympathy.

Derek wandered into Stiles’ room. He seemed to have some sort of inexplicable issue with Stiles’ habit of holding shouted conversations from opposite sides of the apartment. “I guess I’ll be gone for the weekend, but I’ll see you Monday?”

“...So, uh. I’m not sure we have thought this through,” Stiles said.

Derek stepped back towards him as he felt Stiles’ panic rising.

“Thought what through,” he asked.

“Your family knows me pretty well, right?”

“Yes…”

“Derek. What are they going to say when they smell me all over you?”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly there was a hand on Stiles’ back. “ _Breathe_.”

Stiles tried, and like so many times before, he listened to the voice as it told him when and how to breathe. He came back to himself to find that he was curled up on Derek’s lap.

“This isn’t helping!” he yelled when he realized where he was. Derek was going to _reek_ of him at this point, if he didn’t already. He tried to squirm away, but Derek held him firmly.

“Shut up and breathe, Stiles. It’s going to be fine. I’ll stop at a mall or something on the way up. Have you been to Bath and Body works? It is terrible for werewolves. It’ll be okay. No one will notice. No one will make you move. You’re okay.” Derek continued to ramble on in this fashion for another few minutes.

Eventually, Stiles leaned in, burying his face against Derek’s neck. “Are you sure it’ll be okay? I can’t go through this again, Derek. Maybe this was a terrible idea.”

Derek kissed the top of Stiles’ head. “It’s going to be fine, okay? I promise,” he soothed.

When Derek finally left a few hours later, Stiles was feeling slightly less panicky. Not great, but he figured he could make it through the weekend.

He ended up spending several hours at the gym, and passed out from exhaustion that night.

* * *

The morning passed slowly without Derek. Stiles pulled himself away from his computer at around one, and went to go make lunch.

Humming to himself as he looked in the fridge, he didn’t hear the front door open.

“Ack!” Stiles jumped as arms wrapped around him from behind.

“Hey.”

“You’re back!” Stiles turned and hugged Derek. Pulling away, he bit his lip. “So, uh… did they… I mean… how was it?”

Derek ruffled his hair. “No one noticed. I promised, didn’t I? Now,” he said, a scowl appearing on his face, “I need to wash the inside of my car. It’s not funny!” he said as Stiles starting laughing, partly from relief. “Everything smells like a weird mix of Japanese Cherry Blossom and Black Cherry Merlot! I spent the whole trip back gagging!”

In the end, Derek made Stiles help clean the car, claiming that it was Stiles’ fault anyway.

* * *

Three weeks later, Stiles flopped onto the couch next to Derek. “I absolutely do not want to write this paper,” he said.

Derek turned to Stiles, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, it isn’t even due for another week. And I’ve written most of it! It’s just that I need to meet the word count.”

“How far under are you,” Derek asked.

Stiles muttered something that was too low for even a werewolf to hear. Derek stared at him until he sighed and admitted, “I’m about a thousand over.”

Derek started laughing.

“It’s awful okay!” Stiles cried, grabbing a pillow to hold on to. “Who even gives max word counts?”

Derek buried his face in his hands, muffling his laughter until he finally got it under control. “Okay,” he said, “how about we make some dinner. Then, popcorn, a movie? And I’ll help you edit it tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Stiles jumped up, pillow falling to the floor.

Derek smiled at him as he followed him to the fridge. 

Dinner ended up being sandwiches (“They are both fast and delicious!”), and then they chose a movie and settled down with a variety of snacks.

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles. Stiles leaned into it, munching on his popcorn. Several hours later, Derek shook Stiles awake.

“Bed, Stiles,” he murmured.

“Noooo,” Stiles whined. “I’m comfy!”

“It’s late. You have to go to bed.”

“I don’t want to stand up. You can’t make me!”

Huffing, Derek stood.

“Wait, no, you were warm, come baaack!”

Derek ignored Stiles. Instead, he bent over and picked Stiles up. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and nuzzled into his neck. 

“Okay. This works too,” he said.

He was asleep again before Derek put him down.

* * *

As the semester got steadily more demanding, the two of them fell back into their weekly gathering, now in person instead of over Skype. They usually ate dinner together regardless, but Derek-and-Stiles time was a no-work no-school zone. Once a week, they went to the diner with the best curly fries for dinner, and they switched off who paid every time.

One night, as Stiles was paying while Derek was in the bathroom, the waitress said, “You two are the cutest couple!”

Stiles blinked at her. “Uh…”

“No really! Talk about relationship goals. You look so happy together!”

“...Thanks,” he said. “We are, I think.”

“I’ll be right back with your change!” she said, bustling off.

Derek came back a few minutes later, just missing the waitress as she dropped off the change. “Hey,” he said. His brow furrowed as he got a look at Stiles’ face. “Everything okay? She didn’t bother you, did she?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, no, sorry. It’s not that,” Stiles lied. “I’m just thinking about things.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Derek said. He ignored the jump in Stiles’ heartbeat. “You still have the rest of term, no sense breaking what little brain you have left this early in the game.”

“Hey!”

“Ready to go home?”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

* * *

Stiles was unusually quiet for the next few days, but it didn’t take him long to snap back out of it.

Derek worried, but when it didn’t seem to be a permanent thing, he let it go.

* * *

The next weekend, as Derek was making dinner, Stiles wandered into the kitchen. He watched as Derek added something to the pot, and then he asked, “Derek? Are we dating?”

Derek froze, then slowly put the lid back down to cover the sauce. He turned around. “...Uh,” he said.

“I just, I’ve been wondering, and…” Stiles shrugged.

“I thought we were?” Derek said. “Did you… not? We never talked about it, but…”

Stiles let out a breath. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“I -- Stiles. I’m interested.”

They stared at each other for a few breaths.

“Hey Derek?” Stiles said. “Want to go on a date with me?”

Derek smiled. “I’d love to.”

* * *

“Hey,” Derek said. “The full moon is coming up.”

Stiles looked up from his textbook. “Oh, hey. Shit, that’s, like, what, next Wednesday?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Stiles waited to see where Derek was going with this. When Derek didn’t say anything, Stiles prompted, “Gonna go back to Bath and Body Works?”

“Stiles.”

“Whoa. Serious voice.” Stiles turned to face Derek. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Derek started, and then stopped.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Well?” Stiles prompted.

“Well,” Derek said again, “we are, technically, dating, right?”

Stiles sat up straighter.

“I thought maybe we could go down this weekend, reintroduce you as pack.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. His breathing picked up. “I. I’m. Derek, I can. I meet the dating clause. I can go? I -- it would be okay? Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Derek’s eyes widened and he hurried over. Pulling Stiles onto his lap, he stroked his back. “Yeah, Stiles,” he murmured. “You’re pack, right? It’s okay. You’re stuck with us again.”

Stiles would adamantly deny crying if asked. Derek would deny it, too. They sat there for quite some time, holding each other tightly.

* * *

They slid into the Camaro Saturday morning.

“So, want to pick up curly fries on the way?”

Derek glared. “You are absolutely not eating them in the car.”

“We could take the Jeep instead?” Stiles offered.

“No.”

Stiles scowled pointedly. “ _I_ could take the Jeep?”

“...It can’t be worse than Bath and Body Works,” Derek sighed, pulling out of the parking lot and headed towards the diner.

“Yay!” Stiles danced in his seat. Curly fries would soon be his.

* * *

Derek and Stiles walked into the Hale house and made their way into the kitchen before they ran into anyone.

“Stiles!” Several voices cried. Laura and Cora ran toward him, only to be stopped by the sudden Derek in their path.

“Stiles?” Talia asked. “What are…” she trailed off as she caught their scent. “Oh!”

“Mom,” Derek said, “I would like to introduce my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. I think you’ve met. We’ve been dating for, well... Anyway, we decided it was time to bring him here to become a part of the pack.”

Talia studied the two of them. When Derek had moved to Berkeley rather than back to Beacon Hills, she’d been hoping something like this might happen, but this was faster than she’d ever expected a friendship to form, nevermind a relationship. Still, it was Stiles, after all. She smiled. “Welcome back, Stiles.”

“Yes!” cried Cora. “I’m so glad!” She dodged around Derek to glue herself to Stiles. 

Peter, sitting at the table, didn’t look up from his book. “Oh, you’re finally announcing it, then?”

Laura’s eyes flashed. “Do you mean to tell me,” she growled, turning to face him, “that you _knew_?”

Peter smiled innocently. “Of course. I was surprised no one else knew, honestly. It’s like none of you know how to use your noses properly.”

Cora growled. “Derek’s scent _never_ changed. Not even after they started dating, whenever that was.”

“Oh, they moved in with each other in… now when was it… the end of July, perhaps? Yes, that sounds about right,” Peter mused to himself. “And I feel like the drastic amounts of that god awful scent last month was a fairly strong indicator that Derek had met someone.”

Laura turned to Derek and Stiles. “And what do you have to say for yourselves?”

Stiles looked at Derek, and the two of them faced Laura. They shrugged. “Nothing,” Stiles said. “Hey, is anyone going to eat that snickerdoodle? Because--”

Cora shoved her least-favorite cookie in her mouth and chewed angrily. Stiles’ eyes widened. “Oookay, then.”

After Cora choked down the snickerdoodle and drank some juice, she threw herself back at Stiles. “I’m glad you’re pack again,” she whispered before wandering back upstairs.

Laura glared at them a bit more before relenting. “You know what, I don’t even want to know.”

“I do,” said Peter. “Details, please.”

Derek and Laura growled at their uncle. “Peter…”

“Jesus, you aren’t getting any less creepy, huh,” Stiles sighed.

“I’m not creepy!” Peter said, affronted. He looked at the three of them, waiting for agreement that never came. “Well, I know when I’m not wanted. Stiles, if you decide you want someone else, well, you know where to find me.” He winked, then was gone.

“Ugh,” Laura said. “I’ll go yell at him.” She hugged Stiles and her brother. “I’m glad you two found each other.”

Derek and Stiles watched her walk away. “So,” said Stiles, “that happened. Do you think we could get away with grabbing some brownies and going home?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Do you have plans?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, grinning mischievously. 

Derek’s interpretation of the speed limit wasn’t any more literal on this trip to Berkeley, either.

**Author's Note:**

> “You were only home for like two minutes!”
> 
> “We had plans!”
> 
> “ _Two minutes_ , Derek!”
> 
> “Don’t worry, Cora, I’m sure they’ll both be back on the full moon. _Won’t you_.”
> 
> “I’ll drag him there myself, Laura, promise.”
> 
> “Ugh, Stiles. You better bring cookies.”


End file.
